F or several months last year, a Ukrainian housewife, 35 and lonely in a marriage that had gone cold, traded WhatsApp messages with a Chechen commander, Achmad, stationed somewhere in Ukraine’s occupied south. They wrote about their days, their disappointments, what they hoped to do when the war ended. She asked about the front. He told her. “Send me a picture,” she said. “I want to see your life.” One afternoon, he obliged—a photograph taken inside the barracks, of himself and another soldier

Tag-uri: WhatsApp